


Among the Blind

by tawg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-19
Updated: 2011-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:31:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tawg/pseuds/tawg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel brought Dean back to life, he made a few changes. Sam will never forgive him. Written in celebration of a typo over at spnbodykink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Among the Blind

Sam hates it. He hates the way Dean came back. He would have given anything and everything to get his brother back. He had _tried_. Because he needed Dean. Needed his smart-mouth brother with all the answers and that cocky grin and those eyes so green that the grass wept in envy.

Not this fake. This mass of hard lines and brooding lips. The scar of a handprint on his shoulder like an artist’s signature. Like Castiel had any fucking right to stake a claim on Dean. Not when he couldn’t even... Not when he’d...

And when Sam is fired up and tight and angry and craving the blood that Dean hates so, it makes sense to him, to try and fix things with his fists. To punch and bite even as Dean punches and shoves back. Nose to nose with Sam’s back against the wall and a bruise blossoming high on Dean’s cheek, purple and green and Sam feels sick inside because it just make it all the worse.

“It is a mark of resurrection,” Castiel had said when Dean had asked, staring at his face in a tarnished hotel mirror. “The eyes mirror the soul, and your soul has been blessed with a second chance.” And Sam had wanted to grind Cas into the carpet and pluck his fucking wings out feather by feather.

Because you don’t go changing something like that. You don’t go fucking with a soul, not Dean’s soul, not the one thing that Sam has been able to pretend that he has a claim on, that he holds a part of. No one should be allowed to take that away. To throw it out like it just wasn’t good enough and... and... and _replace_ it.

Dean had smiled at his reflection in the mirror – had scowled when Sam had probed, had snarled when Sam raised his fists, had grimaced when Sam slammed him back against the Impala, covered Dean’s perfect little mouth with his own, their faces so close together that they both had their eyes squeezed back and it was okay, in the darkness he could pretend they were okay...-

And Dean’s bright blue eyes had smiled back.


End file.
